The Nazi and the Jew
by Quibbled
Summary: Kyle and Eric are set back in the time when World War 2 was playing out. How are the two to handle a situation like this?
1. I Hate Eric Theodore Cartman

The war has moved.

It has become global.

Countries want to become more involved.

It's 1941, sometime in the late fall time. Days are becoming hectic. Stress is spreading widely through America. Do I blame them? Surely not.

It's World War II and it's already been two years. Maybe a bit less. I can't remember the exact date everything started… but it started, and it's overstayed it's welcome if you ask me. Well… nobody ever welcomed it.

Scratch that…that's a lie.

Of course people are welcoming it. People are _supporting_ it.

The locations of battle haven't yet hit Northern America. The war has hit within the European countries, Africa and Asia, if I'm not mistaken.

I'm trying to ignore it. Thinking this may be a terrible and never ending dream and hopefully, I'll wake up soon. But of course this isn't how it's going to play out. It'll never with my luck. And with mine and my families' luck we're of a Jewish decent. And boy, oh boy, do I show it. I have untameable red curly hair that shoots in every direction and a over sized nose that if I had an erection and decided to run into a wall (which in no way would I ever think about doing, thanks.) no doubt the nose would be first to hit the wall. I'm not exaggerating either. And I'm not saying I have a small penis either. Just to clear things up with you.

I woke up a little before I was actually supposed to wake up, thinking I heard an actual bomb go off. It's something to scare the shit out of you. I can't explain, they'll invade. The Nazi's will. No doubt they'll be coming for me and my family. I have friends that would be willing to protect me, hide me, make up lies about me. But I could never do that. Never.

I laid my head back on my pillow, just wondering what it would be like to have a team of Nazi soldiers burst into our school and search for any Jewish boys and/or girls and take them away. The thought sent wild shivers down my back.

I'd be first to go, and I knew it. Not because of my appearance, I could run and hide all I want but I know, I just know I'd be turned in by the Nazi loving, Jewish hating bastard I've actually bothered to call my friend. I looked out my window, it was still dark out but I knew morning was coming, I assumed it was around three. I yawned before crashing back down on my pillow and closed my eyes attempting to find a happier place.

"Another sleepless night." I said that morning, reaching for a piece of toast. My father lowered his newspaper and frowned.

"Kyle… We've been over this more than a thousand times, the country is going to protect everyone." He crinkled his nose when I made a loud crunchy noise when biting the toast, "If any word of Nazi's are coming down to this town, believe me, we will be put under protection as soon as possible."

"That's just one problem though, Dad… what if we don't hear about them coming. What if we're not even prepared…what if-"

My dad raised a hand and cleared his throat, the expression was serious at first but then he looked at the rest of my family in a sympathetic way. My mother looked down at her knife and fork. She was normally a proud Jewish woman and flaunted herself about being Jewish daily. She'd always said I'd marry a lovely Jewish girl one day. But now, since the war lasting this long so far she's hushed up about everything. My dad who always wore his Kippah no longer wore it anymore, and we haven't been to the Synagogue in ages. I can't say I'm proud to hide my Jewish identity, it is understandable after all… but everyone here knows the whole family is Jewish. Should it matter anymore?

"Listen Kyle, I understand what you are saying." My dad stated clearly, "You've mentioned it nearly every time we sit down, and it's getting frustrating. We're all scared in case you haven't noticed. But we have to trust our government system and hope that they will protect America's people no matter what."

"America is joining the war isn't it?" I asked, playing with my fork. My dad tightened his fist.

"No word has been spread to our town… but… it's obvious, Kyle."

My mom cleared her throat and straightened herself up, "K-Kyle, Ike?" She turned to us, gathering up her dishes and reaching out for ours, "You have school, you should be going now."

Ike, my little grade school brother handed his empty plate to her and gave an awkward smile.

"I have Stan picking me up this morning. He should be here soon I reckon." I handed her my plate and she nodded hastily, "Good. Better that way. Anyone else?" There was a glaring look in her eyes and I knew she was thinking of Eric Cartman at the moment.

"No." I said quickly.

I hopped out of my seat and reached for my tattered school bag. My mother scattered out of the kitchen, her plump body jiggling in place, she wiped her hands on her apron. "Kyle, sweet-heart; I want to give you some advice."

I nodded.

"Drop that dreadful Eric boy. I don't want him near here anymore. He is awful!" There it was. That old conceited and proud voice my mother once had. She was serious and she was finally giving rule over me like she did before the war. Controlling my every moment. She's probably starting to realize that we are in big danger. Soon I'll be cut off from everyone. We'll be hiding in the woods. Moving every few days. Surviving on our own, coming out of the shadows once the war is over and our the Allied side has won.

I nodded again.

"Kyle." She said sternly, her bossy tone coming out, "I mean it. Trouble will only happen if you trust that rotten disgrace!"

"I know, Mom."

Did she honestly think I liked being with Eric Cartman. Honestly, he's only ruined my life since day one and lately things are getting worse. I won't even try to contact him. Won't be near him if my friends are, but at school do I have a choice. He finds me.

It was only a few minutes after, until I saw my friend come up along side the road, his hair was straight and in his face, black as a ravens and his eyes bright blue.

"Kyle!" He said hastily, jotting down a little faster.

"Hi, Stan." I forced a smile.

"Nice hair," He pointed up, laughing slightly. I forced a chuckle out of me as well and stared up.

"Yeah. It's getting worse more likely."

It was true. It was a complete fly-away mess.

As I was walking with Stan, he wouldn't dare bring up the war talk. Instead he talked about his day yesterday which was utterly boring but I knew he had to talk about something other then the war. It was become a more touchier subject every day at school, teachers would rarely talk about anything unless it was something serious. But at most times, it felt as if the adults were trying to hide the war from students, pretend it wasn't actually happening. It was insane. We were in our late teens. Practically adults. But we weren't seen like that. In fact two girls, Bebe and Wendy were caught in detention because of how far and deep their conversation got about the war. Can't blame them. They are girls. Girls often gossip. We only get information from Mr. Garrison so often who often moves up a grade every year we do. It's slightly creepy, but oddly enough we don't think much of it. So far our class is pretty sure Principal Victoria is up to this. Hiding information away from us. She just wants the town to do it's every day routine. Act as if we're all safe. And the mayor is doing it too, only letting the local newspaper add any information if it's indeed serious enough that it could put us in harms way.

It just explains why we've gotten no word about whether America is in the war or not. Our town is hiding a lot of information away from us. They don't want us to know that we're involved. They want us all to see that America is safe. Untouched by the Axis. What a bunch of horse radish. The idea of it all shoots steam out of my ears.

"What do you think, Kyle?" Stan said.

"What?" I said abruptly, I wasn't actually listening to Stan at all. My head was just filled with the whole war situation," About what? What do I think?"

Stan frowned. "You weren't listening?"

"I'm sorry." I said earnestly, "I just had a rough morning. Got into it sort of with my dad and my mum!"

He shrugged, "Yeah, S'ppose I can tell. Your eyes are getting really baggy."

"Yeah. Keep having nightmares." I replied, my voice dropping, but I didn't dare stutter.

"About the-" He paused before taking a short breath, "Listen, my place is always available if you ever… err- well need a place to feel safe."

"That's a kind offer; but I don't need it…"

"Oh." His voice grew sad, he's been wanting to help me out for a while. Always saying if I needed it, I could lie and say I was apart of his family proving I had no Jewish blood in me. Generous offer, once again but foolish. I don't look a thing like his family. And that would only put his family in danger if they'd try to help me.

School was terrible. The minute I walked through the door, the least person I wanted to see was there. Standing with his side slouched against the locker, hands in his pocket, talking to a filthy looking messy haired blond boy, who I can call one of my real friends Kenny was Eric Cartman. My blood boiled inside me. My brows furrowed and my eyes glared straight at him, and he caught glimpse of me too, because his dumbfounded expression turned into a smug smirk. He shoved Kenny aside who barked out a loud swear, but followed behind Cartman anyway, muttering to himself.

"Hey, Kahl!" He spat across the hallway marching towards me. My frown grew even bigger if possible. He could never pronounce my name right, and he knew how much it bugged me. I was certain that deep inside he knew how to pronounce it, he just didn't bother. He stopped in front of me, towering over me, his enormous belly almost hitting my scrawny stomach. He licked his lips. I turned red in fury.

"Knowo what I did this morning that I thought would just be HA-LAR-IOUS?" He said loudly. I didn't care. Not in the least, but yet I answered him. I always did that. Acknowledged him. He rolled up his pale brown collar shirt sleeve, "I did this with my crappy red ball-point pen." When he reached the top of his forearm… it indeed showed a lousy faded pen drawing of the Nazi symbol. My teeth were now gritted. "Just showed Kenny too, thought it was a right laugh!"

"There's nothing funny about that, Cartman, so put it away before I smack the crap out of you!" I shouted. We seemed to be drawing attention already.

Stan had covered his face with his hand and sighed, he was never a fan of me and Cartman's battles usually, Kenny wasn't much for them either, sometimes he got a laugh but not now. Instead he tried to back away from this, tried to disappear from the tiny crowd that now started to form. Cartman grew a wide smile, he was loving the attention, he was loving my reaction. People started to whisper. Cartman put up his arm and gave me a light push that was strong enough to make me stumble. He walked around the inner circle flaunting the drawing on his arm. Some girls gasped. People shouted, but Cartman only smiled. Stan grabbed a hold of my shoulders, holding me up but also to prevent me from attacking him. People were surprised. Nobody dare drew that on anything now. Especially after what was heard about what happened to the Jews.

"I'd like," Cartman bellowed out pointing at me, "to see you try to beat the crap out of me when I join the Nazi's, Kahl! I'm of a decent age and I can totally destroy you and your kind! Can't wait to see your ass in a concentration camp!" Stan frowned.

"Cartman, do you even know what happens at those, you ass?" Stan shouted still holding a strong grip on me, digging his nails into my shoulder. Clyde raised his hand.

"My grandpa said he saw a film of those camps and he said they look like fun."

Cartman raised an eyebrow. "Even I won't pretend and lie about those camps. I want Kahl to know what he has in store for him. It's going to be a living hell, I assure you Clyde, Kahl will not… be coming back." His last words took a moment to come out, but surely enough, they came out as strong as every other word he had just spat to me.

This wasn't what I needed first thing in the morning. I escaped Stan's grip and growled at Cartman. He didn't smile anymore. He didn't frown. He just looked at me. With an intense expression. His brown eyes were blazing. He turned on his heel, pushing every kid that was in his way. I sighed out of exasperation. Stan looked bewildered as kids started to head down the small hallway to the small classrooms.

"What… was that? You guys fight. I know that. I understand that." He said with a hint of astonishment in his voice, "But…that was out of no where. What the hell?" He exclaimed, and scratched the back of his head, messing up his tidy hair. I snarled. "He's getting worse every by the day."

"I'd say. He's got nerve putting that symbol on his arm."

"Well…" I started, "I used to believe before this whole mess… that maybe… he was joking about all this Jewish hating crap. But ever since Hitler came into the picture, he's become obsessed and I know now, he's dead serious and committed to this work."

I rubbed my eyes. They were starting to feel real heavy. "I might take a nap later this afternoon in the nurse's office."

"You need it."

Class was like someone was stabbing me in every place of my body today. Well that someone being Cartman no doubt. I don't what it was, but it seemed like his objective today was to make me go over the top.

"Yes, Eric?" Mr. Garrison said when turned away from the chalk board.

"I was just curious to know, do you think America will be joining the Axis or the Allied?" Cartman said calmly, so easily, as if this was an everyday asked question. The temptation to look back at him and retaliate grew, but I knew he was expecting that. So I kept still. Gripping my hold on my pencil. Mr. Garrison pushed his glasses up and cleared his throat before speaking.

"Eric… I'm sorry but this can wait."

"No. I don't think it can actually… you see, I think the class should know right now which side our country is taking, and which one is right and wrong."

"Eric… that's-"

"Clearly deep down, we all know which is right and wrong, and which big nosed creatures should be wiped off the face of the earth."

My tight grew stronger and stronger, _shut up_, I thought, _shut up, shut up!_

"I don't want to give away who I'm siding with of course, but I do think that Hitler certainly has a lot of strong arguments against the Jews and what kind of horrible people, that and others, so I think the class should raise their hands of who they are in favour for-"

"Eric, shut the hell up!" Mr. Garrison rose his voice, by now I was staring right at Cartman and he was staring right back at me. My mouth was closed tightly. I wanted to fight. He wanted me to fight.

"Personally I'm hoping for a new world. A better world." He licked his lips again, "A Jew-Free World!"

"ERIC! THAT'S ENOUGH!" Mr. Garrison shouted. Cartman smiled.

"Listen, I can't get you in trouble for voicing your opinion, but watch what you say, or I can get you expelled!" Mr. Garrison pointed a warning finger at Cartman who merely shrugged.

"What will something like expulsion do, when I too am working along side Hitler burning the Jews!"

"ERIC CARTMAN!" He shouted so loudly, the desks must have moved, "Are you aware we have a Jewish boy in the classroom at the moment!"

"Oh. I'm fully aware. Big nose. Curly Jew fro. He'll be the first to go on my list. I promise him that!"

I got out of my seat, throwing my desk down, and marched over to him grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. A few students squealed. Cartman looked surprised for once, was he not expecting to actually walk up to him and nearly pumble him in front of the teacher? Maybe not. But I was ready. I was all ready to go. But Mr. Garrison had pulled us apart. Cartman's cheeks were tinted with a pink colour. He was hot, and so was I. Once I put a hand on my own cheeks. I was completely flustered.

"Office. With me. Now!" Mr. Garrison said through gritted teeth tugging Cartman by the shoulder, he struggled, but soon followed.

"This isn't a joke anymore!" I shouted on the verge of tears, "This is serious!" Stan and Kenny stared up at me ready to say something, but they knew there was nothing to say. They looked back down. Cartman turned his head.

"I'm aware of that, Kahl." He hissed.

My mouth was open ready to shout, but only a quick breath of air came out as he was taken out of the classroom. I hung my head down, hands gripping on my knees. Stan came and stood beside me resting a hand on my back.

"I'm sorry…" He said. I looked at his through the corner of my eyes and sniffed. "I don't think he really gets it."

"I don't even know why I said that…" I breathed, "Of course he gets it."

"I don't think so… I mean he'd probably join, realize what a dick Hitler is and pussy ou-" He began.

"Stan." I whispered, "Don't try to make me feel better." I stood straight up, and he patted my back, a worried expression plastered on his face, "You can try all you want… but it won't make a difference." I added in softly.

The rest of the day had no sign of Cartman, my thought was he was either sent home or he was forced to spend the rest of school hours in the office writing lines or getting the belt. My face suddenly grew hot and I knew it was turning beet red. The image of Eric Cartman in a full darkly coloured Nazi uniform came into mind. Was my face red because of anger, seeing Cartman pulling off the uniform. The smug expression all over him. The hatred for me deep in his brown eyes. My next image was blurred but I could see clearly. Him in the same uniform… then there was me. I had the angry expression. But I was pushed down to a table and Cartman took out a worn out black leather belt and gave me a good smack across the… I opened my eyes. I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

"Gross…" I murmured to myself. I must have been really tired. To have a split image of Cartman doing a dirty deed to me and me liking it. I smiled, trying to hold in the chuckle that desired to escape. That's a laugh. Why would Cartman be doing that to me? The idea is repulsive. And I have way better taste to have day dreamt about Eric Cartman. I'm not even gay.

But apparently I was still beet red, Stan nudged me in the shoulder and suddenly asked if I was catching a fever or something.

"W-what?" I gasped out, "Course not."

"Hmm. Maybe you should take that nap."

I nodded, "Er… yeah, I'll look into that."

Maybe I wasn't getting enough sleep lately. To have a lusty desire of Cartman giving me a spank with a leather belt was just my brain and body begging me to get some decent rest.

"I'll do it when I finish writing out these equations." I told Stan, hoping he'd relax. I twirled my pencil between my fingers and breathed out, trying to clear my mind to finish these problems. The idea came to my head where I could possibly confront my image with Stan. But he'd think there was something seriously disturbed with me, so it was best to keep a thought like this bottled up, but if they were to keep occurring, I'd have to confide in someone, right?

I quickly finished up my assignment, scanning my paper fast and carefully making sure I handed it in without errors and once satisfied I stood up, gathered my bag and books and scurried to the front desk, laid my paper down neatly in the pile and rushed towards the door without realizing I hadn't asked.

I heard the obvious sound of an 'ahem' from Mr. Garrison and I turned to look at him.

"Kyle? Planning I wouldn't be able to see you."

"No. Sorry. I thought I asked. I was wondering if I could carry on to the office and maybe rest in the nurse's office?"

"Well…" He started, "I suppose their's no harm in that." I smiled ready to turn before he spoke up again, "However, don't start up with that Eric, alright, Kyle?"

I nodded again and turned on my heel rushing towards the office. Did people think I was insane? My mum first told me to avoid and now my teacher, and I mean I know it makes sense and all. But why do people really think I want to start it up with Cartman? Because he boils my blood. Steams me up. Get's me all riled up. Raises my temper till it's right off the chart. Do they think I like it? Well I don't start it. I don't want to start it. I don't want to talk to Cartman. I hate Cartman. I hate Cartman with a passion. I hate him. I hate him. I hate Eric Theodore Cartman!


	2. I Have Gay Feelings for a Nazi

**I'm late. And I'm awfully sorry about it. I've been up to my neck in homework now, and since I spent my weekend at the Harry Potter premier I haven't had any time to write. **

**SO. I'm having my story right now. ALSO, I was looking at my last chapter and my disclaimer never popped up. So I'm writing it just straight out on my document, I've decided to fill in what I wrote last chapter that never got up here. **

"**Hello everyone, this is my first story on , and honestly, this was a request I was given a while ago that I am finally working on. It's half-heartedly done, so things aren't really meant to be entirely accurate. Not to mention, this is South Park so anything can happen really. But I'm just planning to give fair warning, so I don't want people to really expect certain things like "Well this is what actually happened in ww2." Etc. Etc. This was the request. So I'm doing my best. I don't know EVERY detail about ww2, so cut me some slack.**

**But what this pretty much has to do with, is the whole South Park gang is put a little behind in time, so they can experience the World War 2. I'm not sure if I'll actually finish, just cause it's not turning out so good (I think.) I'd rather have the situations to be more accurate but alas, I suppose I'm too lazy to go open a book or spend my time looking on the internet for some certain situation that occurred.**

**However, I hope it is enjoyed. It's mature for swearing, the war, the drama, the sexual content and so on and so forth. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own South Park. South Park and the characters are owed by Matt Stone and Trey Parker."**

I lay in the cot. It was uncomfortable. I wrapped myself in the shabby blanket that was too thin to keep anything warm. I had asked to leave just a little while ago, say about fifteen minutes and so far I haven't been able to fall asleep. I wanted to clear my mind. Of the war and especially of Cartman.

But here I am, lying in the cot, which feels as if I'm lying on a board; thinking about the war and thinking about Cartman. I can't help it. I blame him. He has a knack for invading my brain lately. And as the days go on it's only becoming more and more bizarre having him in my mind. I've never spent so much time in my life thinking about one person, not since I met this cute little bushy haired girl by the name of Rebecca who I met in my elementary years, however she ended up brutally breaking my innocent and young heart by turning into a, well, err, prostitute. But that was different. I had a crush on little Rebecca. I don't have a crush on Cartman. I have a deep hatred for Cartman. Completely different, don't you see? You see right? But alas, he's coming into my mind without even thinking of knocking. Then again that is Cartman. Since when is he one to knock? Never, that's when. Oh. I'm kind of getting side tracked. He's been putting thoughts into my head. Cartman that is. And they are odd thoughts too. Of course, you must remember the incident in class… and I won't lie when I say that's the worst. I've thought about him in yes, _that_ way. But it's not my fault. Why would _I_ want such disgusting thoughts of that fat ass?

I don't.

I really don't.

But I'm not denying that I have them. But I stand by what I said last time, I'm not gay! And I _don't_ understand why I had an image of that, let alone any images of him at all.

I sighed. "This is ridiculous." I frowned to myself, and turned on my side, facing the wall, "A Jewish boy would not have gay feelings for a Nazi-wannabe boy." Right? I thought. It only makes sense after all. I'd have to be absolutely mental to be feeling in such a manner. I'd be thrown into the loony-bin as soon as possible.

I shook my head, and sighed. Time to actually sleep, I thought. I closed my eyes slowly, working as hard as I could to calm myself and shake the thoughts out of my head. Soon enough, I found myself drifting away.

There was no dream. It was black. Sounds depressing. But in reality, it's a hug relief. I'm tired of my weird dreams. I opened my eyes slowly. I had a good sleep. One of the best sleeps I've had in a long while. I knew because the sleep in my eyes were practically holding together my top and bottom eyelashes together. I uncurled my toes. It was a sweet sensation that grew from toe to head. The tiny warm shivers rose from my toes to my legs, to my torso, neck and head. Nothing was here to bother me. Nothing popped up in my dreams to disturb me. The sleep only felt like endless hours. I felt warm and comfortable despite being stuck in the tiny hard-as-a-rock cot and covered in only a thin itchy sheet.

I rolled over and saw something, someone I was not expecting. My eyes grew wide. It was Cartman. Sitting in a chair, hunched over, hands in his lap, legs spread apart, hands tightened together. He was watching me sleep? What for, I thought? He was staring aimlessly, like he didn't even notice that my eyes were wide open, my mouth was agape, I opened it up wider ready to shout for a nurse, or someone in the office to come and rescue me from the monster.

He realized I was awake when only a breath, a gasp escaped my lips prepared to scream. He retaliated, got out of his seat quickly and clumsily and threw his arms in the air reaching towards me.

"HE-" He wrapped his fat, grubby hands around my mouth preventing me from saying anything else.

"Ack!" He yelped. "Shut up, Jew!" I turned red. What was he doing? Was he going to do something to me? Maybe I really am dreaming now. It's sad. He's holding me down on the bed. He looks panicked. I probably look panicked as well. I struggle, but he's too big for me. I don't want to admit anything but he is actually much stronger than me, "Listen…" He says in a hush tone, I wiggle my legs by that doesn't help by much. He's sitting on them. "HEY! I have to apologize to your Jewish ass."

"WHMP?" I ask. I'm completely muffled but he nods as if he understands. He's apologizing? Did I hear right? Why on Earth? Even if he had to come in to say sorry, he would never. He has too much dignity to apologize to a Jew. I'd scoff if I could, but I can't. He lowers the hand that's covering my mouth, I don't say anything. I look around the room. I look at the door. My only escape. There are no windows just that door. That one door, I wish I could throw the tub of lard of me and just run.

I have no idea what Cartman is even playing at? What is going on in his mind exactly at this moment? Why is he even listening to a teacher?

"W…." I manage to let out, his hand teaches, I know he thinks I'm going to attempt to shout, "What are….you getting at, psycho?"

"Principal Victoria wants me to say sorry to you." He answers calmly.

"And you… you're actually going to listen to her?" He nods, "I don't believe you!" I bark back, he rolls his eyes and chuckles, I wiggle again, but it's useless.

"Oh, Kahl… why would I come in to say sorry?" He asks me. I hesitate underneath him.

"To…to mess with me, you jerk!"

"Of course! What else would bother Kahl more than me saying my apologies," His eyes turn down to me and his lips curve into a smile, "than me not actually meaning it?"

I grit my teeth, it's so STUPID! But of course it actually bugs me. It's Cartman. He continues to flash his wicked grin.

"I acted as innocent as possible, pleading I wanted to see my dear friend KAHL," He emphasizes on my name. "And apologize for my rude remarks today. It went on for a few moments, but finally, she believed that I was surely honest about it and let me come to see you. However… you were asleep…" His smile got less wicked as he went on, but he looked back down at me and it grew again slowly, "So I drew on your arm."

He got off of me, and I panicked. I didn't know what he used to draw on me but I knew what he might have drawn on me and I bolted up and pulled up both my sleeves, there was nothing, he was lying. I turned over to him.

"Kahl…" He looked back at me; I breathed slowly, "I'm sorry…" He said as innocently as possible. It drove me nuts. Such an honest sounding reply and he didn't mean it at all. He meant complete opposite of it. I ran at him yelling and hit him in the jaw, he didn't expect it, he grabbed my wrist, an angry but satisfied look on his face, and he held my hands back.

Just then Principal Victoria came in, probably from my screaming and held us apart.

"ERIC!" She shrieked, "I thought you were coming in to apologize! You seemed so honest too." Disappointment appeared across her face. Cartman looked down sorrowfully.

"I…I did." He replied in that baby and sweet voice he used to use as a kid to get away with anything, "But Kahl called me a N…N…Nazzzzziiiiiii… and hit me real haaaaarrddddd." He whined.

"WHAT? No I didn't… I mean I hit him but I…"

"Kyle?" Principal Victoria lowered her glasses and looked sternly at me, "Did you call him one?"

"No!" I shouted back angrily, glaring at Cartman.

"Kyle?" She repeated in that shrill voice, "Did Cartman apologize?"

"Well… err…" I looked at her now, with a confused expression, "He did… but he told me before he wouldn't mean it to bug me and I got mad and… well I hi-"

"Kyle… Eric came in and told us that he honestly felt really bad about hitting you, I'm sure he didn't say such a thing. Just because of what happened today, you shouldn't hold a grudge."

I was shocked. Who wouldn't hold a grudge about something like that? It's just rude with what's happening and what I am, and she's telling me to just get along with him as if we were once best friends who let a silly comment get the best of us. NO! This was different. This was something serious. Not…. Not what she's making it seem like.

"Yeah… Kahl. I felt really baaaa-aaaad." He wailed. I felt disgusted.

"Now listen you two, I'm going to need to send you two home, maybe you can reflect the incidents that had happened today and come to a healthy decision on how you two need to treat each other and your friends. Not only is this hurting each other but it's hurting those around you."

I looked at her with a grimacing look. I seemed appalled. Both of us, going home. We live in the same general direction just a few blocks apart from each other and I have to go home with him. Cartman seemed very amused. A smile grew on his face.

"You're right, Principal. I must learn to treat others in a much more respectable manner." He said sweetly. She smiled and glanced at me with a cross expression.

"Yeah… Same." I grumbled.

"Good." She nodded and led us both out of the nurses and her own office. For the whole time plastered across my face was a terrible expression and only Cartman looked pleased. Pleased to be walking home with me, the ability and opportunity to bug me. It was awful. My day was going to absolute hell. Going home. Odd images. Cartman playing with my emotions today, first just plain rudely and now jokingly while still being able to keep it in that same level of rudeness.

I didn't look back at the Principal and I attempted to avoid any eye contact with Cartman, I just walked off to the front doors avoiding anybody. I got out, down the steps, fast-walking, my steps going as fast as they could without running, hoping I caught a better head start than Cartman, but he copied my footsteps. Followed out the door quickly, went down the steps. For the while, he didn't talk to me. He just stayed a couple steps behind me. I expected him to talk soon. But he didn't. I didn't look back. Didn't want to, though it was tempting, it was also frightening, what he would start. I just looked forward, growing tense as my steps carried further.

Then he spoke, "KAHL!" I stopped. I stood there. Didn't move, didn't look back, I was standing at the curb now, of course, I thought. He waited until we were at least a block away until he wanted to talk with me. I gulped. How could I have been so stupid? Here I was worrying. He caught up to me and pushed me in the back. I stumbled a bit before turning my gaze back towards him. He grinned.

"For a day…" I began, "For a day, can't you just leave me alone. What do you gain out of this?"

"Pleasure."

"…What?"

His cheeks turned beet red and he stuttered at first but his reply was a murmur, "Not…sexually, you stupid Jew."

"I knew that." I barked back, "Why would you? I meant to say why? Why do you get pleasure out of seeing my life being ruined?" I was almost tearing up again, but I forbid myself from doing so.

"Same reason Hitler does! All his life Jews ruined his life! He got jealous sometimes of what they got and what he couldn't! It's time there gone you curly-headed ass!"

I laughed, "What Jews ruin your life? Who the hell are you jealous of?"

"What? I didn't even mention jealousy!"

"WHAT? Yes you did, you dumb-ass!"

"No I didn't." He stated, I didn't fight back. Who knew how long that would last. How long he would convince me I didn't hear what I heard. "Only ONE Jew has ruined my life. You, Kahl!"

"Pfft. You're so fucking stupid Cartman; I've never once ruined your life. You've been ripping on me since the day we met."

He held up a fat finger to my nose, "AH YES!" He shouted, "Then… back then, I did hate Jews. But I hate you more than ANYTHING! Because YOU ruined my life!" He spat shaking his pointer finger in front of my face; I swatted at it and laughed.

"You're so pathetic and immature." I said seriously. The tears that were ready to leak out of my eyelids didn't come; this whole conversation just seemed silly. "I didn't do a thing to ruin your life, as I once stated nor have I tried. I don't know what exactly goes on in your mind Eric Cartman, but it's completely ri-" He looked at me with wide eyes and his mouth hanging open, he swung his hands on my shoulder and grasped on tightly, "Ow-!" I winced. He closed his eyes and his whole face looked scrunched up like he was thinking too hard.

"DON'T CALL ME THAT, JEW!" He shouted and spat again, his annoying voice rang through my ears.

"What?" I cringed. "Call you what?"

"Call me by my first name!" He exclaimed, his face still distorted and his eyes still tightly closed shut. I wiggled out of his grasp and stared him down.

"Er…sorry…" I replied.

"What?" He opened his eyes looking startled, "Don't apologize, asshole!" He now looked in rage. I smiled. Now me apologizing and meaning it seemed to bug him like him apologizing and not meaning it but me. It was amusing and I couldn't help but to continue to smile, right now, of all times I was the one in control. Not Cartman. I was the one who did all the mind games and the picking on. Not Cartman. "Wipe that damn smirk off your face, Jew!"

"Why? Does it bug you?" I sneered happily.

"Yes, it does, and if you know what's good for you, you'll stop!"

Call me crazy for messing with a Nazi-wannabe, but I flaunted that smirk, I waltzed around in front of him showing off that smile. The fury he was giving off was growing and growing by the second. He hated it. His face was as red as a tomato now, and I was happy. So my smile grew, grew into a wide toothy grin. It probably brought him over the top cause next thing I remember was I was on the ground, and below my chest was really starting to hurt. I gasped for breath; it was the hardest thing to do; breathing.

He winded me. Hit me really hard there too. I glanced over my shoulder still gasping as hard as I could to see an enraged Cartman storming off back home.

**It's a shorter chapter. I'm sorry, but I like and dislike how it turned out. :P These two fighting is kind of fun to do, I hope it turned out alright.**

**Leave reviews please telling me what you think!**

**:D 3**


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